


Return to Oz

by the_fluffy_unicorn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Sabriel - Freeform, WIP, Wizard of Oz AU, but also fluffier, but before Casifer happens, but it's gonna turn angstier further along, canon divergence mid-season 11, graphic depictions of emotional turmoil, it's a sort of, more tags will be added as the story moves along, now lemme see, so far it's been, there most likely will be, with bits of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-06-02 03:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6548659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_fluffy_unicorn/pseuds/the_fluffy_unicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What starts as a regular witch hunt for the Winchester boys turns out to be an elaborate scheme to get them - along with Castiel and (surprise! not dead!) Gabriel - to a weird place that looks suspiciously like the Oz from the movie, but turns out to be something completely different and much more unpleasant. They've got no other choice but to follow the yellow brick road in an attempt to find their way back home and discover who exactly is the puppet master pulling at their strings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hugs and huge thanks to my two wonderful betas [Maddi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockianGirl14/pseuds/SherlockianGirl14) and [Aaliya](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Miniatures) for catching my silly mistakes and gushing over this thing with me <3

 

> _He said is this the return to Oz?_  
>  _The grass is dead, the gold is brown and the sky has claws_  
>  _There's a wind-up man walking round and round_  
>  _What once was Emerald City is now a crystal town_
> 
> _-[Scissor Sisters](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/scissorsisters/returntooz.html)_

 

 

“You sure she’s our witch, Sammy?”

“Positive. All kinds of crazy began piling up pretty soon after she came into town and opened her… parlour.”

They’d been stuck in this little town for what seemed like eternity. Local law enforcement were out of their depth (and knew that, luckily), so they were grateful for any help they could get. All signs pointed to a witch, a pretty powerful and imaginative one: a string of weird deaths of unfaithful husbands and wives mostly, with an occasional mean boss thrown in for good measure, causes varying from ‘choking on his own dick’ to ‘head exploding like a hot air balloon’.

It sounded right up their alley, so they set out to Wayne, ME as soon as Sam finished reading the article on the ‘unfortunate accidents’ on the town website.

“Wayne, Maine,” Dean muttered as they passed the welcome sign. “Who the hell would name their town like that? Sounds like a dumb joke to me.”

They had been certain the case wouldn’t take them long – after all, the witch didn’t exactly try for inconspicuous with all those ‘accidents’ – but found themselves with a handful of dead bodies and not a single witness instead. They wasted an entire day questioning every grieving widow and widower in the area only to find out that a) they all were genuinely mourning their spouses’ deaths and b) none of them were aware of the fact that their late beloved ones had been cheating on them, even though half the town seemed to know it for a fact.

They celebrated their defeat at the local diner and went to find a motel.

The following day they split up: Sam set out to question the neighbours while Dean hunted down the victims’ lovers. It took them a lot longer than they expected, and they were nowhere near done – and nowhere near finding the witch – by their third day in town. Winchester luck at its finest.

On the plus side, no more weird deaths had happened after their arrival, and that fact alone was enough proof for them to keep digging; it was quite obvious the witch was aware that the hunters were in town and decided to lay low.

As soon as they were done with the witnesses – or, rather, lack thereof – and pretty much out of options, Sam decided to go through the local paper at the library, just to make sure they didn’t miss any potential leads. And that’s where he hit jackpot.

The advertisement read: “Madame Dorothea. Spiritual guidance, Tarot readings, solutions to complicated life situations.”

…

Dean stared at the newspaper clipping in Sam's hands in disbelief.

“Come on, you can’t be serious! This ad’s as genuine as a three-dollar bill.”

“It looks like that, yeah, but isn’t that a perfect disguise? I’ve checked the paper up to two months back. The ad appeared a week before the first murder and has been in every issue since then. I mean, it can’t be a simple coincidence!”

“Still looks fake to me,” Dean grumbled, clearly still hungover from his ‘night out on the town’.

“Well, in case you got better ideas I’m all ears,” Sam retorted.

Dean huffed in frustration and threw his hands in the air.

“Fine, fine! It’s not like I got other plans. Gimme ten.”

While Dean showered, Sam considered their options. Sure, they needed to get to the witch as soon as possible, preferably before she skipped town, and it would be pretty simple – the newspaper ad was kind enough to provide an address. But they still needed to make sure they got the right person. They didn’t want to scare some poor fake psychic out of her wits after all.

Dean emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, towelling his hair off and already dressed. He went straight for his duffel, rummaging through it, probably considering what weapon could be their best bet against the witch. Sam cleared his throat.

“I think we should visit the newspaper first. Just to be sure we’ve got it right.”

“Sounds good to me. So, suit up?”

“Yep.”

…

The chief editor had confirmed Sam's suspicions, saying that Madame Dorothea definitely wasn’t local and that she had paid for the ad in cash, four weeks in advance. That was how they ended up in a small trailer park on the outskirts of town.

“You sure this is the right address?” Sam asked, trying his best to find any sign of the street name.

“Pretty sure. Look.”

Sam followed Dean’s pointing hand and saw a trailer that sat aside from the others. There wasn’t anything unusual about it, but as they drove closer he noticed the sign on the door that read “Madame Dorothea”. Something was slightly off about the whole thing, although Sam couldn’t put his finger on it.

Dean parked the Impala and turned to face Sam.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah, um… maybe we should call for backup first?”

“Oh come on, Sammy, it’s one witch!”

“I don’t know, Dean, it’s just… I’ve got this weird feeling. Can you call Cas? Just in case?”

“Fine, if you insist, Samantha.”

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean reached for the phone. Sure. As if Dean ever needed an excuse to call Cas.

“Hey, uh, Cas, looks like you’re not there – just calling to check in – we’re in the trailer park in Wayne, Maine, about to go get us a witch, so if you don’t hear from me in the next half hour we’re most likely cursed and would appreciate your help. Thanks, man.”

Dean hung up and climbed out of the car. Sam followed suit.

It was quiet. _Too quiet,_ Sam thought. _Too normal._ They walked around the trailer, trying to peek in through the windows, but they were draped. Not a single sound came from the little house, and Dean reached for his lock pick. He fumbled with the door for a few moments before slowly pulling it open and stepping inside.

“Come on in, Sammy,” Dean called after a beat. “Looks like our witch ain’t home.”

Sam hesitated for a second, the off feeling still nagging at him, but followed his brother.

The trailer looked nothing like Sam had expected judging by the newspaper ad. In fact, it looked just like any other trailer out there – a kitchen corner, a small sofa curling around a table in front of it, and a beaded curtain cutting off the back half of the trailer that presumably contained a bathroom and a bed. Nothing inside pointed to the fact that a witch – a real or a fake one – lived in this place. The trailer was clean, immaculately so. A green mug and a cereal bowl in the drying rack by the sink and a glass with daisies on the table were the only indications that someone lived there at all.

Dean emerged from behind the curtain with a puzzled look on his face.

“It’s all clear. Way too clear if you ask me.”

“Yeah, it’s… not quite what I expected,” Sam agreed.

“Okay, well… let’s go through the cabinets, see if there’s some hoodoo here after all.”

Sam nodded and reached to open the drawer closest to him, but then there was a noise behind his back, and he spun in place to see Cas standing in the doorway, breathing heavily.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice was thick with worry.

“Sam, Dean, get out of here, **_now!”_ **

They both rushed to the door, but it was too late: a gust of wind, too strong to be considered natural, pushed Cas inside and slammed the door behind him, sending all three of them tumbling to the floor. Cas was the first to get back on his feet. He pushed at the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Sam and Dean joined him, but to no avail - they could have tried moving a mountain with the same effect.

Then the trailer started shaking, slow and shallow at first, but the vibrations were quickly gaining speed, filling the air with a steady hum that soon escalated to a roar of a working jet engine.

“What’s going on, Cas?” Dean shouted, struggling to stay on his feet.

“I don’t know! The place is heavily warded; I can’t sense anything!” Cas yelled back.

Sam was about to say that they didn’t see any warding in or around the trailer when the floor and the ceiling suddenly switched places, and then again and again; and the fleeting thought about them being stuck inside a giant tumble dryer made him laugh hysterically before something caught him on the head and everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy 4/20 =P

It was dark when Sam came to, dizzy and disoriented, head pounding. The room around him was not pitch black: just enough light to make out the shapes of the furniture. He heard a groan from the other end of the room and tried to sit up, which resulted in him yelping as a searing pain jolted through his ankle.

Next thing he knew two hands were on his shoulders, pushing him down lightly, along with a voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

“Hey, hey, Sammy, you gotta stay down for a while. I’m patching you up, but my batteries are practically drained, so it’s gonna take some time.”

Sam shifted his gaze to the man holding him down and blinked in confusion. He knew he hit his head pretty hard, but not to the point of having hallucinations.

“G… Gabriel?”

“That’s me.”

“But you were-”

“Dead? Not really, sorry to disappoint. Now, try to keep quiet, okay? Kinda need to concentrate here.”

Sam let his head fall back and relaxed, closing his eyes. He felt Gabriel's light touch on his ankle, and in a few moments the pain began to subside. He must have passed out for a few minutes, because next thing he knew there was no pain whatsoever, and Gabriel spoke up again.

“There, all done. Not my best job, I gotta say, but at least all your bones are back to being good as new.”

Sam opened his eyes and smiled up at Gabriel.

“Thank you. And I’m glad, by the way. That you’re not dead.”

“Gabriel? Where the hell did you come from?”

Dean sounded angry and worried, and Sam scrambled to sit up, afraid that his brother would do something stupid. Gabriel, however, seemed unperturbed, and was staring Dean down with a raised eyebrow.

“Ironic as it may sound, I came out of that broom closet,” Gabriel said, jabbing a thumb to his left.

Dean ignored him, switching his attention to Sam.

“Sammy? You okay?”

“Yeah, Dean, I’m fine. Got a killer headache, so can you maybe tone it down a little?”

“Sure thing,” Dean grumbled, calming down somewhat. “But the arch-douche over there still owes us an explanation.”

“What makes you think that I know any more about any of this than you do?” Gabriel said, rolling his eyes. “I told you, I was in the closet. Funny thing though, I didn’t see you there.”

Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows and Sam had to struggle to keep a straight face. Dean sputtered and turned slightly red, trying to cover up with a cough.

“Gabriel is telling the truth, Dean.”

Cas was kind enough to interject, saving Dean the embarrassment and Sam the necessity to fake a coughing fit to mask the laughter bubbling up inside him.

“Hello, Gabriel.”

“Heya Cassie, long time no see!”

“I would still like to know how you ended up here, if that’s alright with you. It was pretty straightforward for the three of us, but you are the last person I expected to see here.”

“Well, since you ask so nicely… Fine. You don’t look surprised to see me though.”

“I was hoping you’d show up,” Cas shrugged, “ever since Metatron. It was you there, wasn’t it?”

“Yep.”

Gabriel fell silent for a while, frowning at the memory.

“Couldn’t do much outside the script though. Save for your trenchcoat. Nice touch, don’t you think?”

“Yes, it did help me. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, little bro. And yes, before you ask, I got stuck at Metatron’s for a lot longer than I intended, my intention being  _ never in a million years, _ so yeah, that kinda stalled me for a while, but all’s well that ends well, right? Besides, I was just in time to play a knight in shining armour for Samsquatch here, and that counts for something.”

Dean shot Sam a questioning look and he replied with an eyeroll.

“It was just a broken ankle, Dean, I’m fine.”

“A broken ankle, a couple of cracked ribs, a sprained wrist and,” Gabriel paused to run a hand through Sam's hair, “a mild concussion just now. Still need to fix up that flesh wound on your head properly, but gimme a minute, okay?”

Gabriel shot him an apologetic smile, and Sam's heart clenched. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Gabriel had to go through in order to get away from Metatron. And they never looked for him, not even after Cas told them about his brief interaction with Gabriel within Metatron’s pocket universe. They should have checked. They could have found a way to save him  _ years ago _ -

“…Sammy?”

“Huh?” Sam said, startled, mildly aware that Dean had been talking to him.

“I said, you good to stay here while Cas and I go look around?”

“Oh, yeah… yeah I’m good.”

“Okay. Stay put.”

…

“Hey,” Sam said once their brothers were gone. “Thanks.” He looked at Gabriel's confused face and added, “for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it, kiddo. Least I could do.”

“You didn’t have to.” Sam shrugged. “You could have walked away. But you didn’t. So, thank you.”

“S’not like I could just let you bleed out in here now, could I? I may not be at my best right now, but I can still be useful.”

Gabriel wasn’t looking at Sam as he spoke, and Sam felt another pang of guilt shooting through him.  _ We should have looked for him, _ he thought,  _ should have known he was out there, somewhere- _

“Anyway,” Gabriel continued, unaware of Sam's inner monologue, “let’s have another go at your head wound, shall we? Do you think you’d be able to get to the bed over there? It’s definitely more comfortable than lying on the floor.”

Sam nodded, and together they slowly made it to the bed in the back of the trailer. Gabriel motioned for Sam to lie on his side, kneeling beside him and placing his fingers on Sam's scalp. It took longer than Sam had expected, but gradually the pounding in his head eased to a dull ache, and he took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

“There,” Gabriel said, collapsing onto the bed next to Sam, “all done.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Just need a minute.”

Gabriel sounded tired, and Sam couldn’t help but wonder what horrible things had happened to him while he was at Metatron’s disposal. He felt guilty, again, and was about to say something when he heard footsteps and a moment later Dean was calling his name, alarmed not to find his brother where he had left him.

“We’re in the back,” Gabriel called, sitting up in the bed and throwing a wink at Sam. “Saw anything interesting out there? Cause all we found here was this bed. Pretty comfy for a trailer bed I must say.”

Dean stepped through the beaded curtain, ignoring Gabriel's quip completely and sitting down next to Sam with a sigh.

“What’s the matter, Dean-o? You look a little green.”

Dean ran a hand over his face and shook his head.

“Well, we’re not in Kansas anymore, that’s for sure.”

“I’m fairly certain we were in Maine prior to our arrival here, Dean, not in Kansas,” Cas said, walking in after Dean, confused frown in place.

“And there’s another reference going way over your head, Cassie!” Gabriel exclaimed, turning to stare at Dean disapprovingly. “Haven’t you taught him anything in all those years?”

“Wizard of Oz isn’t exactly my thing,” Dean grumbled. “Especially considering that we know for a fact that Oz is the real deal. But what I’d really like to know is if we’re really there, or it’s just  _ someone’s _ sick idea of a joke.”

Dean gave Gabriel a pointed look, and Gabriel immediately threw his hands up.

“Hey, no need for murderous glares! As I said, I got in here just as the rest of you did. Well, not  _ exactly  _ like that, but you get the idea. One moment I’m unlocking the door to my safehouse, freedom at last and all that, and next thing I know I’m dropping outta that closet. And I’d  _ really  _ like to find out who – or what – was capable of pulling such a thing. I might be a bit under the weather now, but I’m still an archangel  _ and _ a trickster, so when I say  _ safehouse, _ it should be, you know,  _ safe! _ ”

Gabriel got pretty riled up by the end of his sudden outburst, and, as far as Sam could tell, looked genuinely upset about the whole thing. Dean stared at Gabriel defiantly for a beat before speaking.

“Alright, let’s suppose I believe you got nothing to do with this. But my question still stands.”

“Are you sure it’s the Wizard of Oz we’re playing here, Dean-o?”

“There’s a yellow brick road going towards this greenish glow over the horizon, so yeah, I’m sure. Oh, and we’ve landed on a witch.”

There was a pause as Sam and Gabriel both tried to come to terms with this new information, and then Gabriel was shuffling off the bed.

“Gonna have a quick look. Be right back,” Gabriel said, and was gone before anyone had time to react.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> introducing a new - and very important! - character: the Red Doc Martens =)))

“I believe we can trust him, Dean.” Cas was the first to break the silence, addressing Dean’s main concern. “You have seen how much time it took him to heal Sam. He is not at his full power at the moment. And I’m sure he is not the one behind all of this.”

“Then who the hell is? Who has enough power to trick an archangel into getting in here, wherever this might be, along with the rest of us?”

“I don’t know. But we shall find out soon, I’m afraid.”

As if on cue, Gabriel walked into the back of the trailer, holding a pair of dark red Doc Martens in his hands.

“Well,” he said, waving the boots in the air, “I’ve got good news and bad news. Which one would you like first?”

“As if it matters,” Dean countered. “Cut the crap and out with it already. What do you need the witch’s shoes for?”

“For obvious reasons I’m sure you’d be able to see if you bothered to think about it for a moment.”

Gabriel placed the boots onto the small bedside table and plopped down on the bed.

“I mean, look at the facts here. There’s four of us. We’re in Dorothy’s house. There’s a yellow brick road. We have landed on a witch, successfully killing her in the process. The witch was wearing red shoes. So I can’t say it’s a wild guess when I come to the logical conclusion that someone – or something – wants us to play along.”

“Good thing we’ve got ourselves an expert then.”

Dean’s tone was harsh, but Gabriel didn’t as much as bat an eyelash at the jab.

“Ooh, that hurt!” he wailed, pressing a hand to his chest. “Just stab me right in the fucking heart, why don’t you!”

“Well, maybe I would do that –  _ again  _ – if you  _ had _ one!”

“Guys, guys!” Sam interjected, waving a hand in the air between Dean and Gabriel. “You’re hilarious and you hate each other’s guts, we get it. But can we focus on other, more pressing issues here? Please?”

“Oh I don’t hate him,” Dean quipped. “He’s just an asshole.”

“Right back at ya, Dean-o,” Gabriel drawled, giving him a lazy two-finger salute.

Sam pulled his best bitchface, making sure they both saw it. Dean mimed zipping his lips shut and Sam sighed, turning to Gabriel.

“Okay, so… Was that the good news or the bad news?”

“That depends on how you look at it, Sammy. I’d say… a bit of both? I mean, the good part is indeed, as the Dumbchester here so helpfully pointed out, the fact that we have yours truly as an expert on this sort of thing. And my expert opinion is that our best bet at finding out who’s behind all of this is play along, follow the rules, don’t get killed in the process and maybe, just maybe get a tiny little bit of a chance to get the fuck out of this pocket universe and never, ever see it again!”

“Gabriel, are you sure that this is a pocket universe? I didn’t sense anything of the sort when I was outside.”

“Trust me, Cassie, this is exactly what it is. Granted, it’s extremely old and a lot more solid than your average gig, but I know a pocket universe when I see one.”

“So we’re not in Oz after all?” Sam asked, trying to wrap his brain around the quickly shifting concept.

“We sure are. Just not in the real one, and that could possibly – quite probably in fact – make matters a tad more complicated than they already are. Real Oz is not a walk in the park, as you may know, but it has an invaluable advantage of containing a known number of fucked-up things, whereas this one cannot grant us such a certainty.”

“Are you trying to say that there are all kinds of crazy just waiting to happen to us out there? Anything’s game?”

“Why, someone’s been paying attention, colour me impressed!”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, and Dean retaliated by silently flipping him off. Sam sighed. It was like high school all over again.

“Yes, Dean, I believe that is exactly what Gabriel meant.” Cas’ tone was even, but Sam could tell that he was getting tired of their brothers’ constant bickering as well.

“Yeah, yeah, what he said. I – uh, just don’t get me wrong here – if this was  _ my _ pocket universe, that’s what I’d do. Take Oz décor – straight from the movie, as far as I can tell – make sure my targets are on their way and throw in a bunch of not-so-pleasant surprises. And if our anonymous host has at least a drop of imagination, then the surprises can get… creative.”

“I definitely don’t like the sound of that,” Dean grumbled. “Remind me again, we want to go out there why exactly?”

“Follow the rules and play along, that’s why,” Gabriel said, rolling his eyes. “Besides, the only way out of here that I could sense is definitely in the same direction as the Emerald City.”

“And I bet that it’s just our dumb luck that it’s in the Wizard’s palace in the Emerald City,” Dean said. “What? I’m not into this shit, but I know the movie. It’s a classic.”

“Yeah, I kinda wish this whole thing went according to the movie script,” Sam said with a sigh. “There were a lot less unpleasant surprises there than in the book.”

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, the remnants of the headache from before letting him know that they weren’t planning on going away any time soon. He felt a light touch of Gabriel's fingers on his wrist, and a small jolt of grace shooting through his arm. The headache subsided and he smiled at Gabriel with a grateful nod.

“I still don’t understand why you had to take the shoes off the dead body, Gabriel.”

“Oh, Cassie, I’m glad you asked!”

There was a familiar glint in Gabriel's eyes, and Sam braced himself for what was about to come next. He had a very strong suspicion Dean wouldn’t like it.

“See, there were four main characters in the movie: Dorothy, Scarecrow, Cowardly Lion and the Tinman. There’s four of us, which means we have to play the parts, and that, in turn, means that one of us has to wear these.” Gabriel nodded at the boots on the table.

“Dude, hell no! I’m not wearing some dead chick’s boots!”

“How do you know the witch was a chick, bucko? To tell you the truth, I didn’t exactly have time to check.”

“Still doesn’t change my answer. I don’t give two shits if it’s a chick or a dude, I’m not wearing something that’s been on a dead body!”

“Well, maybe you won’t have to. Let’s use logic on this one, shall we? Now, let me see.” Gabriel paused, tapping a finger on his chin thoughtfully. “I’ll go first. I ran away and hid from everyone for a couple millennia. You gotta admit it’s kinda hard to get more cowardly than that. So, Cowardly Lion is me.”

Sam wanted to object to that, for all the things Gabriel was, he never thought of him as a coward. But then Gabriel was turning to him, and something in his face made Sam save his objections for later.

“As for you, Samsquatch, I’m thinking… Tinman? It’s not ideal, but it’s the best match, because you’re too smart to be Scarecrow and don’t have a mania to get back home to be Dorothy, so Tinman it is. Besides, you did spend almost a year walking about without a soul, so that kinda counts?”

Gabriel sounded a little apologetic, and Sam shot him a reassuring smile, nodding his agreement. Gabriel clasped his hands and turned to stare at Dean and Cas.

“O…kay, I think I got it. Cassie, you’re up for Dorothy, I’m afraid, what with your never-ending quest to find dad. That means you’re getting the kicks. It’s long time overdue, if you ask me. This holy tax accountant vibe you’ve got going got old way before it was new.”

Dean muttered something under his breath, and Sam tried to school his face into neutral expression as best he could. He caught Gabriel's amused look and slightly shrugged in return. Dean was hopeless, nothing new about that.

Cas just stood there, blinking at them in confusion until Gabriel picked up the boots and shoved them into his hands.

“And that leaves you, Dean-o, to play Scarecrow. Pretty fitting if you ask me.”

“Yeah well I don’t give a fuck as long as I’m not the one wearing those. So come on, bring in all the brainless jokes. See if I care.”

“Ooh, touchy!”

Sam shot him a  _ ‘don’t’ _ look and Gabriel swallowed his next jab at Dean. He was silent for a beat and then sighed in dejection, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, alright. Scarecrow by omission only. And no brainless jokes, scout’s honour. Well, no more than usual, but that’s a promise.”

Dean grunted in acknowledgement, playing nonchalant, but Sam could tell that the crisis had been averted. Thank everything.

“No, Cassie, no, no, no, that’s  _ not _ how you wear a decent pair of Doc Martens! Here, let me help.”

With that, Gabriel began to fuss over Cas, muttering something along the lines of ‘yes, pants into boots’, ‘ditch the jacket and loosen the tie’ and ‘damn this pocket thing I can’t even snap up a pair of khakis’. Five minutes later he pushed Cas to the middle of the room.

“Let me present, gents and gents, our Dorothy!”

Sam had a rare opportunity to see his brother gaping like a fish out of the water while turning ten shades of red. Dean was openly staring at Cas, everything else around him forgotten, and Sam could do only so much in order not to laugh. Gabriel plopped down onto the bed next to Sam, sniggering and nudging him with his elbow, and one side glance at Gabriel's contorted face made Sam burst out with laughter.

Cas frowned and tilted his head to the side.

“I don’t understand, Dean. Does something in the way Gabriel adjusted my clothing look funny?”

“What? Uh, no… not at all.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, turning even redder. “Lookin’ good there, buddy.”

Dean clasped a hand on Cas’ shoulder, throwing a murderous glare at Sam and Gabriel and stomping his way to the front of the trailer.

“Never mind us, Cassie,” Gabriel said between the bouts of laughter. “S’not about you. You – you’re rocking those boots, no doubt about that.”

Cas stared at him, narrowing his eyes, but didn’t say anything and followed Dean.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> high five to anyone who can catch a Doctor Who reference in this chapter =)

When Sam and Gabriel finally managed to calm down somewhat and follow their brothers, they found Dean passive-aggressively rummaging through the cabinets while Cas stood in the middle of the small living area trying not to get in Dean’s way and looking completely miserable. Sam decided that for the sake of sanity of everyone involved he needed to try and play the peacemaker.

“Hey, guys, look, we – we’re sorry, okay? The thing is, I got hit on the head pretty bad very recently, and… and Gabe here just came out of the closet, so can you cut us some slack?”

He realized that the last part of his sentence came out wrong only when he heard Gabriel sniggering behind his back.

“Cas, you look great, honestly. There’s nothing wrong with what Gabriel did to your clothes, and these boots do require a somewhat… different style to what you’re usually wearing, so if he didn’t – then you would have looked ridiculous. Which you’re not. And we weren’t laughing at you, or anybody here, really.” Sam caught Dean’s murderous glare and tried his best to keep a straight face. “We were just, you know, laughing.”

He trailed off and shot a panicky glance to Gabriel.

“Actually, we discovered something pretty important here,” Gabriel said, throwing a wink at Sam. “I can’t snap up anything in here, and it’s got nothing to do with me not being at full charge. It’s the pocket universe rules, apparently. Good thing we’ve found out about it now and not when one of us was in a desperate need of a Kit-Kat. And no teleporting either. I can still heal, and so does Cassie, so that’s something to our advantage at least.”

“How do you know Cas can heal too?” Dean grumbled, not looking at anyone.

“Well, he did heal you earlier.” Gabriel shrugged. “Good thinking there, Dean-o, by the way. We’re gonna need all the resources we can find in here.”

But Dean wasn’t listening as Gabriel continued to ramble, turning to stare at Cas, and they plunged into yet another of their “Hallmark Moments”, as Sam had dubbed their drawn-out staring contests. He tried his best to keep listening to Gabriel, nodding distractedly as he watched his brother trying to outstare the angel, until Gabriel noticed it too, and ended his long rant with an abrupt-

“…A-and they haven’t heard a single word I said, have they? Unbe-fucking-lievable.”

Gabriel shook his head, staring at their brothers in amusement.

“You and I, Samsquatch, should do something about it,” he said conspiratorially.

“Oh no, that is definitely not a good idea,” Sam said.

“Why, Sammy, are you doubting my matchmaking abilities?”

“No, I don’t doubt your abilities in… pretty much anything, I’d say, you are an archangel after all. It’s your methods that I don’t really approve of.”

“Ow. That’s harsh.” Gabriel paused, looking at their brothers who were still gazing into each other’s eyes. “But I see your point. Still, aren’t you a little tired of this? And don’t tell me you got used to it, this level of UST would drive anyone up the wall in less than a minute.”

“Can’t argue with you on that,” Sam said, chuckling. “But we’re kinda in the middle of an ancient pocket universe, with nobody knows what exactly waiting for us in between our current location and the door back home. So I’m pretty sure we should be concentrating on this rather than our oblivious brothers.”

Sam was looking around the trailer as he spoke, and he frowned when his eyes fell on the table.

“Huh… that’s weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“That glass with daisies over there,” Sam said, pointing at the table. “I’m pretty sure it was there when we walked in, back in our world. And we were dunked into what felt like a giant cocktail shaker pretty soon after that, yet here it is, as if nothing happened. There’s still water in it, too.”

Gabriel took a step to the table, crouching in front of it so that he was at eye level with the glass.

“Hey Cassie,” he called, “do you notice anything odd about this?”

Cas reluctantly tore his gaze away from Dean and turned to Gabriel.

“What is it that I’m supposed to no-”

He cut himself off mid-sentence, mimicking Gabriel's position on the other side of the table.

“Oh,” he said after a while. “This is… interesting.”

Cas and Gabriel continued staring at the glass. Neither of them tried to touch it.

“What’s so interesting about it?” Dean asked, looking between the two angels. “Apart from it being, you know, not shattered all over the place.”

“I think I saw a cup in one of those cabinets. Dean, could you get it for me, please?” Cas said, not taking his eyes off the glass.

Dean frowned, but didn’t say anything, turning to get the cup and placing it on the table next to the glass.

“And I’m pretty sure it’s okay for you to take the flowers out of the glass and pour the water into the cup, Dean-o. Cassie, you with me?”

“Yes, Gabriel, I believe it is safe for Dean or Sam to touch the glass.”

“Safe? What are you two talking about?”

“It’s warded,” Gabriel said, finally looking away from the glass and standing up. “The glass. It’s warded. Pretty much like this whole place is. Except the warding on the glass is slightly altered, so that neither Cassie nor I can touch that glass without some… not very pleasant consequences. So, if you’d be so kind.”

Gabriel gestured towards the glass, but Dean didn’t move, staring at him suspiciously. Sam rolled his eyes, picking up the glass and pouring its contents into the cup. To his surprise, the cup got filled to the brim while the level of water in the glass remained the same.

“Ohh, that’s definitely something that can come in handy!” Gabriel exclaimed, dipping his finger in the cup and bringing it to his lips. “And just as I thought. Holy water. That’s definitely not good news.”

“How come holy water isn’t good news?” Dean asked, frowning.

“Holy water, as well as the fact that we seem to have an infinite supply of it at hand,  _ is _ good news. What it implies, however, isn’t.”

“Demons?”

“Bit worse than that, bucko. Or did you think that a bunch of mundane demons could be a problem to our badass Dorothy over there and yours truly?” Gabriel pressed a hand to his chest and bowed at Dean, making Sam snort.

“Yeah, yeah, I get your point, shortstack. But as far as we know, holy water affects only demons.”

“That’s because you can’t know everything, despite being the honorary men of letters. I’m talking about demon spawn.”

“You mean like – like that Jesse kid?”

“If you’re referring to a Cambion then yes,” Gabriel said, glancing at Cas who confirmed it with a nod. “But I doubt that it’s half-human half-demon we’re gonna be up to. Back in the day, right about after Lucifer fell but before daddy dearest skipped town, the demons… let’s just say, they got creative, and humans weren’t their first choice of a reproduction material.”

“So what – like our regular kinds of nasty multiplied by a demon? Vampires? Shapeshifters? Werewolves?”

“Those too, yes. But our main concern here are the Nephilim, I’m afraid.”

“Wait, you mean half-angel, half human? Those Nephilim? I thought they were all gone.”

“No, Dean-o, I mean the other kind. The worst one actually. Half-angel, half-demon.”

Gabriel frowned, dipping his fingers into the holy water and drawing sigils on the table absent-mindedly.

“Which is all kinds of ironic now that I think about it. See, your average monster crossbred with a demon will result in a very strong, very annoying creature that is impossible to kill by the regular way its non-demonic friends are usually killed. However, it can be heavily injured and even killed by holy water, or objects dunked in holy water, and the creative possibilities on that one are unlimited.”

Gabriel paused and wiggled his eyebrows, lips twisting into a coy smile, but it was gone the next moment as he continued to talk.

“And the Nephilim – those sons of bitches don’t give a flying fuck about holy water. They are fast, faster than anything you can imagine, stronger than all of us put together and practically indestructible. There’s a tiny chance that the archangel blade might be lethal for them, but as I already said, they are fast. Way too fast for my liking. And the irony of this whole situation is that we have the best weapon against all kinds of demon spawn but for the Nephilim.”

“How can you be so sure that it’s the Nephilim we’re gonna be up against?” Sam asked.

“Because that’s what I’d do if I were the puppet master here,” Gabriel replied with a sigh. “If I had that kind of power that is. And I have a very strong suspicion that whoever did all of this – has.”

He finished drawing the sigils and waved his hand in the air in one long, complicated motion, and Sam was finally able to see what both angels had meant when they were talking about  _ ‘heavy warding’ _ earlier.

The trailer was covered in sigils. Invisible before, they were now faintly glowing, with a soft golden light that made the entire place look like the insides of a Christmas tree. They were everywhere: on the walls, floor and ceiling, on the windows and the drapes, on every bit of furniture and on some of the dishes Sam could see in one of the cabinets Dean had left open, and yes, they were inside the cabinets, too. Some of them went as far as not touching any visible surface and simply hung in the air, slowly turning around their axis or switching places with their neighbours in a series of complicated movements that looked completely random but flowed gracefully nonetheless.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Dean muttered, staring at the sigils in awe.

Sam couldn’t agree more.

He thought he recognized some of the sigils, but only a few, the rest of them remained a complete mystery.

“What are all these for?” Sam asked once the initial shock wore off somewhat.

“Protection, mostly. Against every single thing imaginable, including the Nephilim. And that is the good news that I promised you earlier. This is the safest place in the entire pocket universe. As long as we stay here, nothing’s gonna get to us. But, unfortunately, the only way out of here is to go see  _ ‘the wonderful Wizard of Oz’, _ and we should consider ourselves very,  _ very lucky _ if we make it there in one piece.”

“Dude,” Dean said all of a sudden, looking like he’d just hit jackpot. “It’s a fucking trailer.”

“Yeah, so? I don’t see how that information is relevant to the problem at hand,” Gabriel said without as much as a look in Dean’s direction, as he was too busy studying the sigils.

“It’s  _ a car. _ Why do we need to leave the safest thing out here in the first place if we can simply drive it anywhere we want?”

“That… is actually not such a bad idea, Scarecrow, colour me impressed.”

Gabriel looked away from the sigil he had been studying and turned to Dean. Dean rolled his eyes at the nickname but said nothing.

“Although I’ve got a strong suspicion it won’t work. Too good to be true – just the kind of thing to torture your prisoners with. Still, it’s worth a try. I need some time to try and figure out if we can use the sigils outside the trailer anyway. Dorothy, you good to keep an eye on Scarecrow while he works?”

Gabriel's last sentence went over Cas’ head, as usual. He sighed.

“You, I mean you, Cassie, you’re Dorothy, remember? Might as well start using those nicknames if we’re playing along. Who knows, maybe it’ll even help us at some point. Now, the two of you, go see if the engine can be fixed. If not, get back in here – we still need to search this place for anything else that can be useful. Got it?”

Dean threw a perfect bitchface paired with a mock salute his way and left the trailer, dragging Cas along with him.


	5. Chapter 5

Gabriel was standing still in the middle of the room and Sam found it slightly unnerving. The trailer was absolutely quiet, not a single sound coming through from the outside. Suddenly he felt tired and sagged heavily onto the little sofa.

“You should go take a nap, Samster, while you still can,” Gabriel said without changing his position. “Looks like you’re dead on your feet.”

“I’m okay. If anyone should be resting, it’s you. I know that healing me took a lot out of you.”

“Sam Winchester, ever the gentleman.” Gabriel's tone was light and teasing, but when he finally turned to look at Sam, something flickered in his eyes, some sort of softness that Sam never noticed before.

“Don’t worry about me, kiddo. I’ve still got to figure out how to use these to our best advantage.” Gabriel waved a hand about him, gesturing at the sigils. “Besides, I might just be lucky enough to pull something that I’m pretty sure our gracious host had not expected while setting this whole thing up.”

He made another complicated gesture, and two of the sigils floating nearby flew up to him, followed by a third and then a fourth from the back of the trailer. They froze in mid-air, as if hesitating, and began moving in a different pattern, slowly fusing together until there was just one, completely different sigil left. It flew up to Gabriel's outstretched palm and connected with a soft pop, making his hand light up for a split second before vanishing completely.

“That’s more like it!” Gabriel sounded different now, and his eyes glowed with power. “I bet dear old auntie Amara did not expect this to come from her excellent warding job on this piece of crap trailer.”

“Amara? Are you sure Amara’s the one – wait… how do you know about her escape in the first place?”

Gabriel settled on the sofa next so Sam and made a face.

“Metatron,” he said with a scorn, “was a very hospitable fucker, and provided me with a source of entertainment, so that all the major disasters happening on Earth while I was on lockdown paraded in front of me on a TV screen. I’m sure he thought it would be an amazing opportunity to rub his achievements in my face, but it turned out to be yet another one of his fuck-ups. I was able to fine-tune it to my liking with what limited resources I had, and used it to keep an eye on you yahoos. Not that it was that hard anyway: you always seem to end up right in the middle of things when something goes south.”

Sam didn’t say anything, staring at his own hands. His whole life could be a textbook definition of things going south.

“Hey,” Gabriel said, nudging Sam with his shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, kiddo. Nobody can blame you for everything that’s happening around you just because a bunch of overpowered dickwads decided to pick you and your brother as their favourite chew toys.”

Sam shot him a weak half-smile and shrugged.

“Yeah… Thanks, I guess.”

“Which reminds me that now’s probably as good time as any to tell you that I’m sorry I used to be one of those dickwads.”

The way Gabriel said those words made Sam look up in surprise. Gabriel’s face was open and honest, not a trace of his usual trickster bravado left.

“I mean it, Sam. I made… wrong choices and messed with you – all three of you – but I hurt you the most. I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I feel like an apology is long overdue, so…”

Gabriel's voice grew quieter and more uncertain as he spoke, and he looked away, avoiding Sam's eyes, and Sam had to fight down a sudden urge to wrap him in a comforting hug.

“I forgave you a long time ago. And I think that it’s us who should be apologizing here, you know? You chose to be on our side in the end, and nearly got yourself killed for that. You helped us stop the apocalypse. And… we should have looked for you, when Cas said he talked to you at Metatron’s, we should have known you were alive and needed our help, but we did nothing and I’m – I’m sorry, Gabriel.”

“But you didn’t know, Sam. And there was no way you could have – Metatron’s script was so badly written it took all of my willpower not to cringe when I read it first – so the only conclusion you could have drawn from it was that I wasn’t really there. So please, don’t blame yourself for something you didn’t do.”

Gabriel fell silent, staring at the sigils in front of him.

“Thank you,” he said after a pause. “For saying that you forgive me.”

“I mean it,” Sam said, holding out a hand, smiling at Gabriel. “Fresh start?”

Gabriel looked down at Sam's hand, then blinked up at him, a returning smile slowly working its way onto his face.

“Yeah,” he said, taking Sam's hand and squeezing it. “I’d like that.”

Gabriel's hand was warm in his, and Sam squeezed back, reluctant to let go.

“So,” he said, finally retrieving his hand. “Amara. Are you sure it’s her?”

“I’m pretty sure there isn’t anyone else who’d be able to pull of something like this. Add a very,  _ very _ old pocket universe to the equation and it gives us the only possible solution.”

“Amara.” Sam sighed. “Yeah, it makes sense. We should tell the others.”

“Uh, about that. Would it be too much if I asked you not to tell them anything yet?”

“Why?”

“It’s just – she’s not here, not yet, anyway, and, well – Dean doesn’t feel her presence, which is a good thing, and I’d like to keep it that way as long as possible. I mean, I still think your brother is an asshole, but that thing he’s got going with aunt Am is just  _ wrong  _ on so many levels I don’t even know where to begin!”

Gabriel jumped up from his spot on the couch and began pacing the little living area, waving his hands in the air so that an occasional sigil got thrown off its orbit for a while.

“Just think about it! She is God’s sister. She’s got as much of the power of creation in her as he does. So when she says  _ ‘Oh but we have a special connection, Dean’ _ – it’s exactly what happens. And now they have that connection  _ simply because she said so. _ ”

Sam shot him a questioning look, but Gabriel waved his hand dismissively before he was able to open his mouth to speak.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen that award-winning romantic flick on Metatron’s TV. Felt like punching someone in the face. Repeatedly.”

Gabriel stopped pacing abruptly and turned to face Sam.

“It’s not that God is good and Amara is evil. It never was about that. Light and darkness, right and wrong – I’m sure you know how these things are supposed to work – it’s all about balance.”

Gabriel paused, leaning on the table heavily, gripping at its edge until his knuckles turned white. When he spoke up again his voice was low and dangerous, and Sam had to do his best not to flinch.

“But Amara… she is the most arrogant, most self-absorbed bitch that has ever existed – and  _ that’s _ coming from  _ me! _ She doesn’t care about anything or anyone; she doesn’t give a single flying fuck about free will or God’s creation or God himself – or anything at all, really. She wants what she wants and when she wants it, and she doesn’t care what it takes as long as she gets it. And right now, apart from some face time with dad, she wants your brother – don’t ask me, I’ve no idea why!”

Gabriel plopped down onto the sofa again, letting his forehead hit the table with a soft thud, and covered his head with his hands. Sam nudged him with his shoulder.

“Dude,” he said, trying to keep his tone light, “I’m sure I’m not the first one to say this, but your family is all kinds of fucked up. And that’s coming from  _ me. _ ”

Gabriel snorted, not lifting his head, and let out a long-suffering sigh.

“M’sorry, Sammitch. Got carried away there.”

“Yeah. Just a little bit.”

This time, the silence between them felt a bit more comfortable.

“Gabriel?” Sam said after a while. It looked like Gabriel fell asleep right there, with his head on the table, but the second Sam called his name he looked up.

“I get it. The whole Amara thing. And well… as much as I hate lying to Dean, I think I’m going to have to agree with you here. It’s best that he doesn’t know until she shows up – or until we figure out that it’s not her after all.”

“Oh I wish I was mistaken, kiddo. Anything’s a better option when it comes to auntie Am. But I really doubt we’d be that lucky.”

“But why would she do that? Why throw us in here? Us, of all the people – angels – whatever?”

“You and your brother are important. I’m pretty sure you’ve figured that one out, what with the number of times you two have been brought back from the dead. Cassie is right there with you on the whole constant resurrection gig. And me… well, I guess she figured that she’d rope in the last available archangel as well, just for good measure. I mean, Luci and Mike are still there, obviously, but it’s hard for anyone to get their hands on them. Even if it’s her.”

“So now what? We wait until she shows up to… do what exactly? Kill us? She’s had plenty of opportunities before; I’m sure she didn’t need to go to all this trouble-”

“You’re absolutely right there, Sambo. She didn’t. We’re important, yes; but we’re obviously not her endgame. A good trap works only if there’s bait in it, right? So. We’re it.”

“Wait… you mean to say that Amara brought us here because she wants to trap God?”

“It’s the only logical explanation if you think about it. My guess is that she got tired of stomping her foot and shouting at dad to show himself, and decided to go about it a different way. Threaten his line of defence and the king would be forced to move.”

“Oh, come on! Yeah, I guess we’re sort of important, but not  _ that _ important! Why would God even bother? I mean, he’s been gone for millennia and Cas has been looking for him all this time with zero results – what makes her think that he’d show up now?”

“Amara was never really good with logic. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Okay. Okay. I wish you were wrong about this whole thing, but um… can’t argue with logic, huh?”

Gabriel shrugged and Sam let out a humourless laugh.

“My offer’s still standing, by the way. Go get some rest, Samsquatch, while I figure this warding out and our brothers stare soulfully into each other’s eyes over the engine parts.”

“I think I’m good. Can I help you instead?”

“With the warding? I’m afraid not. But you can start collecting the ammo if you feel like it. We need bottles or flasks for the holy water – as many as you can find – and I’m pretty sure some of the silverware is actually silver, so check that out as well. You never know when it can come in handy.”

Sam nodded and turned to look through the cupboard above the sink. There were two jogger’s bottles, so he took them out, filling them with holy water from the glass and putting them on the table. He moved on to the drawers in search of silverware when someone burst through the door-

“Sam! Gabriel! They got Dean!”


	6. Chapter 6

Sam was too busy panicking to have a good look around as they rushed out after Cas. He noted, somewhere in the back of his mind, that this pseudo-Oz was not exactly what he had been expecting. He ran around towards the head of the trailer to see two dead bodies sprawled on the bricks, a stark contrast against the bright yellow of the road. He was a hunter, he’d spent most part of his life looking at or being covered in all kinds of gore, and yet this particular scene made him nauseous. It wasn’t even that gory – Cas had obviously used his angel blade and did so quite skilfully – but something about the creatures felt so  _ wrong _ that it made Sam's stomach churn.

He tried his best to fight the nausea off, but it kept getting worse, and he had to grab on to the trailer wall to keep himself upright. Next thing he knew Gabriel was by his side, holding him up with one hand while fumbling with Sam's shirt with the other.

“Cassie! We’ve got a little situation here, I’m gonna need your knife!” Gabriel yelled.

Cas appeared in Sam's line of vision, holding out a silver hunting knife to Gabriel and lending his shoulder for Sam to lean on. Gabriel finished unbuttoning Sam's shirt – Sam wasn’t sure why he was doing that but he was too dizzy and disoriented to ask any questions, so he let Gabriel get on with it, concentrating on remaining on his feet.

“Stay with me, Sammy,” Gabriel muttered. “Deep breaths for me, okay? Can’t let you pass out, need you focused.”

Sam tried to even out his breathing, watching Gabriel slice across his own forearm, dip his fingers in the blood and start drawing something across Sam's chest. Gabriel's fingers were warm and soft and surprisingly not sticky, and then Sam heard a faint sizzling sound and suddenly everything was back to normal.

He stared down at his chest, surprised to see no trace of blood on it whatsoever. He looked up at Gabriel just in time to watch the last drops of blood roll backwards into the gush on his arm before it closed on itself.

“Absolutely no way that bitch’s getting a single drop of blood from me,” Gabriel said, holding up the knife, as clean and shiny as it was a minute ago. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m… fine, actually. What the hell was that?”

“Are you referring to your highly unconvincing attempt at dying just now or my perfect out-of-the-box thinking while solving this unexpected issue?”

“Uh… both? And I don’t know about unconvincing. Felt pretty real to me.”

“It kinda was, but not for long. You’re safe now, courtesy of our host not factoring in pagan blood magic as they were setting their restrictions about this place… and my quick thinking.”

“So that thing you did just now was… blood magic?”

“Yeah uh… that was kinda our only option here.” Gabriel looked at Sam sheepishly. “It was either get some of my blood inside you or watch your slow and painful death. Sorry but no chance I would have picked the latter. I promise you I’ll get it out of your system the minute we’re out of here.”

“Dude, you just saved my life. I’m pretty sure I should be thanking you, not you apologizing to me. And besides, I’ve got nothing against your blood. It’s not demon after all. But – umm – why did you have to do it in the first place? What was happening to me?”

“This,” Gabriel waved his hand around, “is not the most human-friendly place in the universe. The second you left the warded trailer it started poisoning you. So I had to think of something, and fast – getting you back inside wouldn’t have helped at that point, and healing you with my mojo would have to go on indefinitely, because the air would continue poisoning you as fast as I’d be healing you. And protecting you by tricking this pocket universe into thinking you’re one of the pagans was the best I could come up with.”

“I’m sorry, Sam. I believe it was my fault,” Cas said suddenly, looking at Sam with guilt in his eyes. “Dean seemed to be fine, and I didn’t think it would affect you – but it nearly cost you your life.”

“It’s okay, Cas. It’s not like any of us had time to think when you rushed in – which reminds me – we need to find Dean!”

Panic swelled in his chest again and he pushed off the trailer wall, in desperate need to do something – anything – but Gabriel's hand on his shoulder stopped him before he was able to make another move.

“What we need to do now is calm down and think before we do anything rash. Clearly it’s what they’re aiming at – take us by surprise and lure us into a trap. And they’ve nearly succeeded just now so I suggest that we do not give them the pleasure of falling into yet another one.”

“But what about Dean?”

“Dean will be fine, Cassie, trust me. The air didn’t affect him the way it did Sam, and I’m sure those fuckers won’t do anything to him either. We are going to get him, I promise, but first we have to make sure that we all get out of it alive. The ground here looks pretty tough and I’m so not in the mood for any grave-digging – not today, not in the foreseeable future.”

“Gabriel's right, Cas. We will get Dean. You know how it is – we always do.”

Cas looked between Sam and Gabriel before nodding hesitantly, and Gabriel clasped his hands, turning towards the bodies on the ground.

“Okay, let’s see what we have here, now that the grave digging is out of the question, shall we?”

They all walked closer to inspect the bodies, and Sam found that they didn’t look as weird as he thought before. The only odd thing about them was their skin. It was deep royal blue in colour.

“Well, so much for the friendly munchkins,” Gabriel said, nudging the body nearest to them with his boot. “Angel blade works, I take it?”

“Yes. But there were too many of them. They distracted me, and when I was done with these two, the others got Dean, and then they just… vanished.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, turning to look at Cas.

“Vanished? As in teleported?”

“No, I don’t think so. But they were too fast. All I could get was an approximate direction.”

Cas pointed to the right, away from the yellow brick road. Gabriel turned in the same direction, freezing in place and staring into the distance. Sam took a couple of steps closer to the bodies, and crouched beside one of them to have a better look, immediately noticing something he couldn’t see before: a faint outline on the creature’s skin, swirls and symbols done in a darker shade of blue. It all looked vaguely familiar.

“Are they… the djinn?” Sam asked, bewildered, looking up at Cas.

Cas nodded.

“Demon spawn djinn, yes. Hence their skin colour. And the eyes. Almost all of the demon spawn creatures have white eyes. Without the iris or the pupil.”

At that moment Gabriel turned back to them.

“Well, good thing is I know where they took Dean. Bad thing is it’s pretty far off, with nobody knows what hiding in the shadows on the way there. Cassie, any chances that thing would run?” he asked, pointing to the trailer.

“I don’t know for sure, but Dean was done with the engine and about to find out when we were attacked. He said that it would most likely work.”

“Get in,” Sam said, walking towards the cab. “I’m driving. We can talk about everything on the way.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here I come bearing gifts in the form of the most ridiculously cute scene I've ever written right in the middle of the quest to save Dean >_

They had been driving for about an hour, weaving their way between the hills, thickets of shrubbery and occasional trees. Their progress was slow and cautious, and not once they were forced to take detours – the trailer wasn’t the best vehicle for a cross-country drive after all. The mist didn’t help, too. It wasn’t thick enough for a complete white-out, but still managed to make things a lot more difficult for them, hiding an unexpected ditch or a boulder from view, or creating shadows of obstacles that weren’t really there.

Still, it was a much better option than hiking through this place.

It’s not that it was particularly creepy or ominous. There was nothing unusual about the hills or the trees or the mist – at first glance. But the longer you looked around, the more you felt that something was amiss. Everything was still and quiet; so quiet that even the sound of their engine was muffled by the fog. There was some movement in the air, but it didn’t feel like wind – more like chunks of air and mist were carefully scooped by some invisible hands, carried for several feet and then left sitting in a new spot, as dead and still as everything else around them. Even the sounds of leaves and grass rustling in this not-quite-wind were off, somehow.

“I don’t like this,” Gabriel muttered, staring ahead. “Take a little to the right here.”

Sam steered right, neatly avoiding yet another boulder that turned up in their way.

“Neither do I. At least we’re safe, right?”

“For now. But I’ve got a feeling it’s not going to last.”

Sam kept driving, following Gabriel's directions, the trailer slowly climbing to the top of a very large steep hill. The fog seemed to grow thicker, pressing at the windows, as if trying to stop them from going any further. Several minutes later Sam was forced to kill the engine, staring through the windshield at the thing that appeared right in front of them seemingly out of nowhere.

“Is everything okay?” came Cas’ voice from inside the trailer. “Why did we stop?”

“All good, but looks like we’re changing our rides here,” Gabriel called back, opening the passenger door and climbing out of the cab to have a better look at the rickety structure.

Sam followed him, tilting his head to look up at the cableway, its cabins moving silently through the fog. The cableway looked old and rusty and there should have been  _ some _ kind of sound as it moved – but everything was so quiet it felt surreal, like he was staring at a giant TV screen rather than the real thing. He shook his head, looking away, turning to stare at Gabriel incredulously.

“You want us to ride on… that?”

“Would you rather hike down this side of the hill and then climb up the mountain? Somehow I really doubt that, Samsquatch.”

“But is it even safe? I mean, how can we know that it won’t break down while we’re up there?”

“Well, there’s just one way to find out.”

Sam threw him a bitchface, making Gabriel snort.

“Oh, come on, Sammy, lighten up! Besides, it’s the only way the djinn could get across, and what’s good for them should be good enough for us.”

Cas emerged from the trailer, walking up to them and staring at the cableway, head tilted to the side.

“What… is that?”

“That, Cassie, is our way into the nest,” Gabriel said, throwing an arm around Cas’ shoulders. “More commonly known as a cableway. Did you find any ammo?”

“Yes, I did. There aren’t that many things in that trailer, so I found these and thought that they would have to do.”

Cas fumbled in his trenchcoat pocket and produced a handful of marbles.

“There were two boxes of these little balls. They are pretty heavy and should possess decent aerodynamic qualities.”

“As well as awesome tripping qualities, I’m sure,” Gabriel said, grinning from ear to ear. “Ooh, I feel like we’re in a Home Alone movie!”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Why are you so cheerful all of a sudden?”

“I just don’t see why I should give our host the satisfaction of watching us suffer. Besides, being miserable is distracting. It’s much easier to keep focused this way. You both should try it.” Gabriel gave each of them a pointed look, as if trying to communicate something he wasn’t saying out loud. “Okay, let’s see what else you got there, shall we?”

Gabriel opened a small duffel bag that Cas had probably found in the trailer, and Sam saw three bottles of holy water, several silver forks and butter knives, boxes of marbles and all the bullets they had left.

“Everything’s been properly baptised, I take it?” Gabriel asked, observing their scant supplies.

“I have dipped everything in holy water, yes,” Cas said, nodding. “Sam, I think you should do the same with your demon knife. It is powerful enough on its own, but applying some holy water to it every once in a while could make it as effective as our angel blades when it comes to the Nephilim.”

“Good call, baby bro. So, looks like we’re all set. Let’s get going.”

“Um… Gabriel?” Sam called after the archangel who started climbing up the ladder that led to a small platform at the top of the cableway tower. “Those seats can only fit two people.”

“So?”

“There are three of us. And splitting up is a bad idea, I know, but looks like one of us will have to stay behind.”

“Don’t worry, Sammy, we’ll squeeze. Nobody’s staying behind. Now get your asses up here, would ya?”

Sam looked at Cas who shrugged and started climbing up after Gabriel. Sam sighed and followed suit.

…

Several minutes later the three of them stood on the platform, waiting for the next cabin to arrive. The platform was creaking slightly, dipping under their weight every time any of them as much as shifted from one foot to the other.

“Gabriel, this structure looks highly unstable. Are you sure that it is such a good idea for all of us to get into the same cabin? Perhaps I should stay behind-”

“Relax, Cassie, we’ll fit in just fine. Grab the bag, get in there and scoot.”

Cas shot him a doubtful look, but did as he was told. Gabriel nudged Sam to get in. Sam settled onto the bench, wondering what Gabriel would do, seeing as there was no room left-

The issue resolved itself with Gabriel grabbing onto Sam's shoulders and swinging his leg over Sam's, and suddenly Sam had a lap full of archangel. Gabriel threw his arms around Sam's neck and let his feet dangle through the gap in the back of the bench. The cabin kept moving, slowly but steadily, and the platform was already far behind them.

“Hi,” Gabriel said, grinning down at Sam. “Is that your gun or are you just happy to see me?”

Sam could feel the heat creeping up his neck, but rolled his eyes anyway, trying his best not to show that Gabriel's antics affected him. The fact that his arms somehow ended up wound around Gabriel's waist didn’t help at all, so he opted for lowering the safety bar instead of talking. Sam felt Gabriel's gaze on him as he leaned a little closer so that the bar could be locked in place, and then Gabriel was leaning back against it, watching him with a raised eyebrow. Sam scowled at him, folding his arms across his chest.

“I’m not catching you if you fall off this thing, Gabriel.”

“Don’t worry, Sammy, I’m holding on just fine,” Gabriel shot back, hooking his legs around Sam's waist. “And I must say, I’m really enjoying this ride.”

“Oh I’m sure the view is amazing.”

“Stunning, actually.”

Sam didn’t say anything to that, holding Gabriel's gaze, trying to figure out if there was something  _ more _ behind his quips than Gabriel being, well,  _ Gabriel _ .

Gabriel was looking at him, smiling softly, and Sam wanted to say something, some horrible one-liner that he was sure Gabriel would appreciate, but then Gabriel was looking away, turning to Cas, nudging his side with his knee.

“Why the long face, Cassie? I told you we’d be fine, didn’t I?”

“I still think one of us should have stayed behind. It would have been safer that way.”

“Somehow I very much doubt that. There’s what, about 3 minutes between the cabins on this thing? Considering how fast those kinky genies are, 3 minutes is way too long for my liking.”

Cas shifted in his seat uncomfortably, pulling the ammo bag onto his knees.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” he admitted, unzipping the bag. “I think we should get ready before we reach the other side.”

They filled their pockets with marbles and took a bottle of holy water each. Sam poured some water over his demon knife and loaded his gun with holy water bullets. He was still very much aware of the fact that Gabriel was sitting in his lap. The archangel looked completely unperturbed, lazily observing the passing scenery, although Sam could feel his wandering gaze briefly resting on him every now and then. He did his best to avoid Gabriel's stare; the whole situation was weird enough already, and he didn’t want it getting any weirder, especially considering that soon they’d have to fight the djinn. He cleared his throat.

“So uh… what’s the plan here?”

“If I’m getting it right, the entrance to the nest should be not far from the cableway tower. It’s a network of caves and tunnels that goes deep into the mountain, with – now, lemme see – about four dozen djinn ready to throw us a surprise party. Eh, could be worse.”

“You seem pretty confident.”

“What can I say, I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeves.”

“Care to share with the rest of us?”

“Oh, but then they wouldn’t be so surprising, now would they?”

Sam scoffed, and Gabriel gave him a pointed look, casually rubbing his ear as if it had been itching and then pausing an index finger over his lips as he was dropping the hand down. Sam stared at his gestures, confused, and then it  _ clicked. _

Gabriel didn’t want Amara to hear them. Which meant that the only place safe enough to talk about her – or their plans about her – was the warded trailer. Sam looked up at Gabriel and slowly nodded. Cas was looking between the two of them, confusion clear on his face. Gabriel sighed.

“Okay, so here’s the deal,” he said, looking at Cas. “I go in first, then Sam, then you. I’m pretty sure I’d be able to find our Scarecrow, so we all stick together. No splitting up – those caves go on for miles – and, y’know, no one’s gonna rescue you if  _ you’re _ the rescue party.”

Cas nodded, and Gabriel looked at Sam, who nodded as well. He could already see the dark shape of the mountain bleeding through the fog. Gabriel turned around, following Sam's gaze, and quickly turned back.

“And we’re going silent now.”

They were slowly approaching the receiving tower of the cableway. The cabin slowed down, creaking slightly as it neared the landing platform. Gabriel lifted the safety bar and stepped out of the cabin, disappearing from view for a brief moment as he checked out if the way ahead was clear. Sam left the cabin as well, followed by Cas, and the three of them quickly climbed down the ladder on the other side of the platform.

Gabriel led them to a stony path that climbed up along the mountain side through the thick shrubbery. Sam was sure that it was impossible to discover the path so quickly if you didn’t know it had existed, but Gabriel didn’t hesitate even for a second. Sam frowned at what it could imply, but then waved the thought away. After all, Gabriel saved his life. He was sure there was some kind of explanation, he’d just have to remember to ask Gabriel later.

Before he knew it, they’d reached the tunnel entrance. Gabriel paused in front of it, waiting for them to catch up. He gestured at the tunnel, pointing at Sam's feet and holding up eight fingers. Then he moved his hands forward and to the sides, holding up two fingers – one on each hand.

_ Eight steps straight ahead, _ Sam thought,  _ then intersection, two guards on each side of the entrance tunnel. _

Sam nodded and drew his demon knife. Gabriel did the same, nodded at them and turned to move into the tunnel.

Not a minute later they were standing over two dead djinn. It was a clean job, barely any sound escaping the guards before Sam and Gabriel were done with them, lowering the bodies on the ground. Sam looked at Gabriel questioningly, but Gabriel was staring into the tunnel straight ahead of them with a frown. He motioned for Sam and Cas to come closer, and grabbed onto their hands. The moment he did it Sam could hear Gabriel's voice, faint but clear, right inside his head.

_ Nod if you can hear me. _

Sam nodded, and so did Cas, and Gabriel gave them a small smile, his voice growing a bit louder inside Sam's head.

_ Oh, excellent. Wasn’t sure about you, Sam, but blood magic seems to do the trick. No, Cassie, I don’t have all of my powers, I just managed to restore some. I’ll explain later. We’ve got a really weird situation here. All the djinn are inside the nest, but none of them, apart from those two guards we just took care of, are anywhere near here. Dean is not very far, down the tunnel on our right and then two tunnels left, but I can’t sense any djinn around him either. I’d say that it’s one of the two: either it’s our lucky day, or something is  _ **_very_ ** _ wrong here. _

Sam concentrated, trying his best to direct his thoughts at Gabriel, and judging by the look of surprise on his face, succeeded.

_ Could be a trap. Can you try and feel along our way from here to where they’ve got Dean? See if the path is clear. _

_ Whoa, Samster, didn’t think you had it in you for holding up your end of a sophisticated mental conversation. I’m impressed. _

_ That’s not the only thing I can hold up,  _ Sam retorted.

_ Hey, that’s my line! _

_ Two can play that game, Gabriel. _

_ Let’s just concentrate on getting your brother out of this dump, and we can discuss the games you like to play later, big boy. _

Gabriel winked at him and turned to stare into the tunnel on their right, letting go of their hands. Cas looked at him reproachfully, and Sam rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin.

Half a minute later Gabriel turned back to them and nodded, and they followed him into the tunnel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't worry THIS FIC IS NOT ABANDONED  
> I'm writing it I'm just... slow and life keeps getting in the way  
> but this story has all its chapters outlined and it will be finished  
> I got you guys)


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